Reverberate
by Vestina
Summary: Percy and Annabeth and their serendipidious relationship. Percabeth drabbles told in exactly 100 words.
1. One

"Percy!" Her voice cracks in the wind. "Percy?"

He sees her there, on the beach with the sand beneath her toes, so golden he's sure it the same color as her hair.

But he doesn't answer, only tiptoes behind her and covers her eyes with his hands.

"Guess who?"

He feels her back stiffen as she forces down a scream. Her hands come up to grip his wrists. With heart-rattling speed, she twists in his arms, forcing them up into an X over his head. Before he can even blink, she slaps him.

"I hate you."

Then she kisses him.


	2. Two

They lay with a faded towel beneath them on the landing of the fire escape in his mom's apartment. The dark sky is blanketed with tiny dots of light. She loves how the stories are etched in the constellations, forever preserved in the sky.

"See that star there?" she murmurs to the darkness.

"Uh-huh."

"It's Sirius. The dog star."

"You know too much, Wise Girl"

"And you've got as many brains as a lump of kelp."

"Hey! Don't insult the kelp! It has feelings too!"

"Percy. Kelp is a plant. It can't feel."

"You're lucky I love you, Wise Girl."


	3. Three

He's angry. And she knows it. She knows she pushed it too far, that she should have never brought Rachel into this because Rachel really doesn't matter.

But she can't see past the rage inside her. Because she's angrier than he is. She can feel it coursing through her veins and in her blood. And she doesn't know why, only that Percy is an idiot, and if he fucking hurts himself, it will destroy her.

She's so damn scared, the fear building in her heart, ready to burst. And she's crying, hard.

Before kissing her, he brushes her tears away.


	4. Four

"Percy Jackson! I swear to the gods if you do not slow down, I'll- "

"This better be good."

"What?"

"Nothing. I was just hoping you'd say something good so your distraction would actually be worthwhile."

"You're going eighty! On a fifty-mile-an-hour road!"

"Your point?"

"So we're gonna die because you're a reckless driver!"

"Geez, Annabeth. Way to be over dramatic. We aren't gonna die."

"Damn it, Percy! Slow down!"

"We're fine. My awesome demigod reflexes compensate for my lack of attention. I drive like this all the time. I'm surprised you've never noticed."

"Asshole."

"And you still love me."


	5. Five

Sometimes, after she's had a particularly rough encounter with a monster, and she's found her way back to camp, she'll lay on the floor of the Athena cabin and stare up at the rafters.

So she thinks. She thinks about how her life is so full of shit because her dad doesn't know how to deal with her any more, and her mom is a fucking goddess who doesn't know what to say.

He finds her then, because he always does. Sometimes he smiles, sometimes he laughs, but today he lays down right next to her and takes her hand.


	6. Six

The orange of her t-shirt clashes with the gold of her hair. It's tangled and dirty from the rain and fighting a cyclopes who lived upstate. But running up the hill, like that, she's perfectly Annabeth.

When she sees him, she turns her head, as if she's the tiniest bit insecure about him seeing her like this, in the rain.

But he doesn't care. He sprints toward her, enveloping her in a hug that almost crushes her ribs. She pulls back and smirks up at his face.

"So, you missed me, Seaweed Brain?"

"Nope. You just didn't look wet enough."


	7. Seven

He stares at her gaunt face, sickly from the heavy loss of blood. She couldn't do it. It was the one monster she couldn't defeat alone.

And he was too late. Too fucking late.

Five minutes earlier, and they would have defeated him together.

But she's too damn stubborn to tell him she needs help.

Now he watches the Apollo kid pour nectar over her wounds. It's too much. He's not sure he can do it anymore, be a fucking demi-god.

But when he sees her beautiful heather gray eyes open, he knows he wouldn't trade it for the world.


	8. Eight

She's missing from dinner, so when Chiron isn't looking, he slips away from his table.

He finds her in the arena, shooting arrows at the fighting dummy.

"What's wrong?" he asks, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Nothing," she snaps.

He nods, clearly not believing her. "Is that why you're mauling that dummy?"

When she turns, he sees the tears in her eyes.

She runs at him, enveloping him in a hug that forces him backwards. He stands in shock before returning her embrace. He feels her tears in his jacket, but he knows she's strong enough to defeat anything.


	9. Nine

Sometimes, around midnight, she finds herself staring out her window and toward the ocean. She sees him, in the sand, with the waves caressing his toes.

So she pulls on a sweater and slips out of the cabin, careful not to alert the harpies. And when he hears the quiet tread of her steps in the dark sand, he turns and smiles.

"Want a coke?"

He holds the red can out to her and she takes the slick, cold drink from his fingers. She sinks down on the faded towel next to him and puts her head on his shoulder.


	10. Ten

He takes her hand. This world, it's crashing down around them. They only have hope.

And each other.

So he takes it, her hand. And he squeezes tightly, not letting go, never letting go.

And looking into those eyes that are a deeper gray than the darkest storm, he whispers, "We've got this together."

So she gives him a half smile while staring down at their fingers.

"I know, Seaweed Brain."

They're not in this fucked-up world alone. And even when the tears come streaming down her face, she fights back. With him. And she wins. Because inside, she's strong.


	11. Eleven

It's such a stark contrast, the pure snow in his midnight hair. The crystalline specks glitter in the orange of the street lamp.

"It's not supposed to be cold like this in November!"

Her laugh echoes. "You are such a pansy ass."

"Hey!"

She raises her eyebrows, daring him to question her logic.

"You know I'm right."

"No. You aren't."

It's quiet before she murmurs, "Shit."

She looks up at him, clear defeat in her eyes.

"What?" he asks, obviously confused.

"I'm cold too."

He smirks, takes his coat off, and offers it to her.

"Who's the pansy ass now?"


	12. Twelve

"Why the hell would you do that?" He hates it when she's angry like this, when her rage overpowers even her most logical thinking.

"I don't know! Maybe to save your damn life?"

"So now it's my problem? You're trying to put this on me?"

Why can't she understand it's fucking hard for him too? Their entire relationship dangles from the thinnest strand, so easy to break.

He takes a shaky breath, wanting to tell her exactly what he's thinking, but knowing it will break her heart.

Without another word, he walks out the door.

But he leaves it open.


	13. Thirteen

The dark strands of his hair peek from under the armor of his helmet.

"It's official!" she yells at him from across the pavilion. "You need a haircut!"

"Oh, really?" he calls back. "And whatcha gonna do about it?"

A wild grin envelopes his face and he takes off running. She sprints after him until he's cornered in the strawberry fields. She tackles him, straddling her legs over his chest and pinning his elbows with her feet.

Then she lifts his helmet, and with her knife, begins to sever the sweaty locks.

"I always win when we race," she says.


	14. Fourteen

He's sitting on the kitchen counter of his mom and Paul's new apartment picking out the blue peanut m&m's.

He hears her walk in before he sees her dangerously long legs out of the very corner of his eye. He pauses before dropping the candy into the bowl and slowly, he lets his eyes work their way up her body. He drops his eyes back to the m&m's.

"Well... shit."

"What?"

He shivers at the sexy tone in her voice. Before she even can blink, he's off the counter and has her pressed up against the oven.

"You. That's what."


	15. Fifteen

When he finds her, she's working her little ass off with a scowl on her face.

"What's wrong, Wise Girl?"

She waves her hand, but she doesn't look up.

So he drags her outside where the rain falls in thick, pretty droplets. He tells her to live a little, that she's too serious.

She raises her eyebrows skeptically. But she takes his hand anyway.

And they dance. In the rain. She doesn't really think it's slow dancing because Percy keeps sporadically tickling her ribs to make her laugh.

And when they kiss, she wishes life always felt like this. Perfect.


	16. Sixteen

They sit in the ice cream parlor in a booth off near the corner. She swears it's the best in New York, but to him, it all tastes the same.

"You'd think if their ice cream was so good, they'd have money to update this place." His gestures at the seats, fire engine red with the vinyl torn in quite a few places.

She rolls her eyes.

"That's the point, Percy. It's supposed to feel homey."

He looks at her rather skeptically, his spoon dripping mint chocolate onto the floor.

"Are you sure?"

"Just eat your ice cream, Seaweed Brain."


	17. Seventeen

He never knows when she's sad. Or angry for that matter. Usually it's both. She locks herself away, not just from him, but everybody.

There are days where he feels like he barely knows her.

And when she explodes, it's a mix of sweat and screams and tears. He's got no idea what to do or say.

But he wants to make it better. He will be the one who breaks her free from the shit inside her head.

But he knows it's him too. That he's not perfect either.

So he tells himself he's going to change. For her.


	18. Eighteen

He grabs her arm and pulls her into an alley. She presses against the brick, blonde curls escaping her ponytail.

"Did you get him?" she breathes.

"If I'd gotten him, do you really think we'd be hiding here?"

She rolls her eyes, turning back to the street.

"Fucking Zeus, remind me who talked us into this."

"That would be the Lord of the Sky himself, Sweetheart."

She whirls on him, her knife against his throat. "Didn't I tell you never to call me Sweetheart?"

But he just winks, kisses her cheek, pulls out his pen, and darts into the sunlight.


	19. Nineteen

He stiffens when he feels the warm breeze on his neck at breakfast on the pavilion. He turns around, but suspiciously, there's only empty space.

He knows it's her and that damn Yankees cap.

"Annabeth," he murmurs under his breath. "You can't fool me." He hopes his voice sounds as confident out loud as it did in his head.

And that nobody saw him talking to thin air.

She laughs so softly he begins to wonder if it really was only the wind.

But he hears her voice, feels her hot breath in his hair.

"This game isn't over yet."


	20. Twenty

She has no idea what he's planning when he tells her to get in the car. Then he drives for a while before finally cutting the engine.

"Just over that hill," he says quietly.

The gravel under her feet crunches as they hike up the peak. The ocean crashes onto the jagged rocks so far below.

"Everything has been so fucked up lately, that I needed something real. Normal."

He looks at her carefully. She realizes he looks like a little boy. Alone. Helpless.

She takes his hand, and together, they gaze out at the roar of the waves.


	21. Twenty One

"Percy." Her voice is laced with that exasperated tone it gets after he's done something stupid. "What the hell is this?"

"What does it look like," he cautiously responds with a hint of humor, but also seriously considering what he could've done.

"A burned elephant brain."

"Don't you think that's a bit exaggerated?"

"I don't know what it is!"

"Spaghetti, Annabeth! See, that's the pasta-"

"Fucking Seaweed Brain."

"Just eat it."

She rolls her eyes, but picks up her fork, twirls the pasta around it, and takes a small bite.

"Percy."

"Yeah."

"You are never allowed in the kitchen again."


	22. Twenty Two

"Gods! Why are you so fucking insufferable?"

"What the hell did I do now? Because, honestly, do you think that you are so easy to deal with? Do you honestly think you aren't a fucking know-it-all?

"Don't try to blame me for this, Jackson! Don't you dare." In the glare of the street lamp, her hair is a brilliantly fiery orange. "Why would you even think-"

Before she can say another word, he kisses her. And in that moment, he knows that even though she's a pain in the ass, he loves her too much to ever let her go.


	23. Twenty Three

"Annabeth?"

"What?"

"Um, I know you are, like, all knowing and logical and stuff, and you are really, really smart-"

"Just spit it out!"

"Are we... lost?"

"Of course not! Don't be a complete idiot."

"It's just I'm pretty sure we've driven around this block three times already."

"Damn it, Percy! Don't distract me!"

"Do you even know where we're going?"

"Percy! Shut up!"

"Where are we going anyway?"

"Grover found some potential demi-gods at this school-"

"In the middle of nowhere."

"Percy please shut up."

"Admit you're lost."

"We aren't lost!"

"Keep telling yourself that."

"I really hate you."


	24. Twenty Four

"Checkmate." She purses her lips to keep from laughing as she moves her pawn across the board.

"Damnit!"

"Face it Percy. Your chess skills leave something to be desired."

He snorts unattractively. "No, I think Athena just hates me."

The smile drops off her face. "Percy-" she starts. But he cuts her off.

"That was a stupid thing to say."

The silence is over powering.

"It's true. She does hate you. Which is so stupid because she doesn't know you, and it's all just a load of prejudice bullshit and-"

He's laughing now. At her.

"What?"

"I fucking love you."


	25. Twenty Five

He's most relaxed on the beach. It's rather obvious really, but it's worth noting.

Because even though it doesn't always show, she knows he's worried. Worried about all the shit at camp and monsters attacking every other fucking minute.

But when he's on the beach with the waves in his ears, she sees years melt off his face. He's happy.

It feels right to be there with him, to splash his face with the salty spray. To hear his laughter. And have him soak her right back.

And it feels right to kiss him while the tide covers their toes.


	26. Twenty Six

Late Sunday afternoon, they decide to ditch camp to go exploring in the woods. With interlocked fingers, they stumble across a trickling stream.

So she kicks off her flip-flops and tiptoes into the rushing water.

"It's really cold!" she shrieks.

He smirks at her, tossing his shoes in the sand. "Nah. You're just a pansy."

She ignores this comment, transfixed by a penny in the water. From 1977.

"Wow," he says from behind her shoulder. "That's old."

"Tell your mom that. I'm sure she'd love to hear it." He wiggles his eyebrows at her.

And then there is some kissing.


	27. Twenty Seven

She wishes she understood him better, knew how to connect with him. Because no matter how smart or clever or wise she is, she knows she will never be like him.

He's so selflessly pure, such a damned martyr. She pales in comparison.

And she knows, no matter how much she lies to herself, that Athena and Poseidon were never meant to mix. Ever.

It's why they fight like the deepest parts of hell.

But she also knows he would do anything for her. And she's pretty sure she'd do anything for him too.

It's why, sometimes, their relationship works.


	28. Twenty Eight

It had to be done. There was no way around it. Not that she can see anyway.

She would never consider herself girly. Which was why she saw this as being more architectural than interior design.

That lamp had to go.

Maybe it was just her ADHD kicking in, but it was so ugly. The key word there being was. She hopes trash compactors like the taste of vintage furniture.

At breakfast the next morning, he looks rather confused. Probably thinks it the lamest trick the Hermes cabin has ever played.

But midnight break-ins, those are up her alley too.


	29. Twenty Nine

She stops when she hears the sound of breaking glass.

"Percy? Is everything alright?"

Silence. She waits. There's a strangled noise. He walks in, his blue shirt splattered with crimson.

"What the hell happened to you?" she screams.

"I... uh... think I'm bleeding."

"No shit!"

"Um... what do I do?"

"Try stopping it." The sarcasm drips heavily from her voice. "And while you're at it, take off your shirt. You don't want that to stain."

"Yeah," he says. "That's why you want me to take my shirt off."

"Don't be a perv. I'm going to go get you a band-aid."


	30. Thirty

Fear. It's the only way to describe the burning he can feel in his blood. Through his veins. Ripping him up on the inside.

Where the hell is she?

Because she said. She told him it wouldn't be more than an hour. It was supposed to be an easy job. She said she could fight it alone.

She's such a liar.

He rolls his hand into fists, his fingernails creating crescent-shaped grooves in his sweaty palms. Grits his teeth so hard it hurts.

He takes a deep breath, letting his adrenaline dissipate the fear.

He is going in after her.


	31. Thirty One

Her foot slips and she starts to fall.

"Careful," he murmurs catching her elbow before she can tumble down the stairs.

"Don't be a hero, Jackson." Glares at him over her shoulder.

"Okay. I promise, no I swear on the River Styx, that I-"

"Percy," she warns. Even though her back is turned as they descend, he knows she's smiling.

So he takes it a step further.

"Are you saying you don't want me to be the guy in this relationship? Because I'm totally okay with you paying the check."

"Remind me again why I'm dating you?"

He just laughs.


	32. Thirty Two

He's pulling in the canoes, his jeans wet from the rowdy Hermes boys, when a clump of wet sand hits his ear.

Turning, he assumes it's a few off the Hermes kids trying to aggravate him, but to his surprize, there isn't anyone there.

But when he turns, it happens again.

"You really want to play this game?" he says. "Cuz you chose the wrong place to play it."

He knows exactly where she is the moment she touches the water. And if he times it right...

He pulls the hat off her head.

"I win this round, Wise Girl."


	33. Thirty Three

His favorite place to take her is the New York Public Library. Her eyes light up so bright they sparkle like little stars.

She's so happy, it makes him happy.

Even if he gets really bored with books. And it smells weird.

She also tends to ignore him.

So maybe it's not the ideal spot, but it earns him quite a few bonus points.

Afterward, they always go to the little sushi place across the street. She pulls out the books she got, and he makes fun of her nerdiness.

And it's all so normal, so mortal-ish, that it's perfect.


	34. Thirty Four

She doesn't let on that she's scared.

She's discovered fear is a rather useless emotion. Does more damage than good. Or it would, if there were any good in being afraid.

And if she's being perfectly logical, she's fought full grown cyclopes and lived to tell about it.

But it's pretty clear logic doesn't matter when one's boyfriend is about to show up.

She swears. At herself. And her fucking stupid hormones.

But when he opens the door and flashes that shy smile she secretly loves more than anything, she wonders why she was ever nervous in the first place.


	35. Thirty Five

She's a terrible driver. Not that he would ever tell her this. He doesn't have a have a death wish.

But as they screech to a stop at the intersection, he wonders if he's ever been more terrified in his entire life, which includes his encounter with the Minotaur.

"You uh... want me to take the wheel for the next few minutes?"

A confused look passes over her face. "Why?"

"Oh... you know... night driving puts strain on your eyes."

The light turns green. The car lurches forward suddenly.

"Gas station. Now."

"What? Why?"

"You are a fucking awful driver."


	36. Thirty Six

Her scream jolts him awake. He stumbles, blindly looking for a shirt. Running into the bathroom, he draws Riptide and strikes an offensive pose.

"Annabeth?" No answer. He realizes that she not bleeding nor are there any potential rapists other than the toilet paper.

She's also not wearing anything but a towel. He flushes.

"What's going on in here?" he says, trying to recover.

She points toward the shower.

A spider.

He throws it in the trash can. Very anti-climatic.

She seems to realize that she's practically naked, her face turning bright red.

"Okay," she says. "You can leave now."


	37. Thirty Seven

She loves it when he kisses her.

She knows it's lame. And pointless. And she should probably throw illogical in there too. It makes her feel like a love-sick Aphrodite girl.

But they call it a secret for a reason. And he's never going to find out. Not if she has any say in the matter. Which she does.

He'd abuse power like that.

And there she is again. Going off track. Making up excuses. Ignoring what's right in front of her.

But he's really so adorable when he leans in that she can't help but want to be kissed.


	38. Thirty Eight

This isn't where he wants to be. Second semester chemistry would be a great form of underworld torture.

He realizes if he doesn't pay attention, that she'll have to tutor him. Again.

It's as good an excuse as any. It should be illegal to have chemistry the last hour of the day.

He pulls out his phone, texting her about coming over after school.

He hates balancing equations. It's worse than hummus.

His phone vibrates. He reads it, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Purses his lips together. Knew this would be her answer.

_Do your own fucking homework._


	39. Thirty Nine

He's done it.

She had her back turned for only a second, but it was his chance.

It was just sitting there.

He feels odd being invisible. Sorta like having Achilles' Curse, only more vulnerable.

So when she's done teaching the first level Greek lesson, he sneaks toward her, admittedly, not being very quiet. Grabs her hips. She shrieks, but he kisses her lips before the sound gets anywhere.

She moves her hands upward, as if to put them in his hair, but instead yanks the hat off his head.

She slaps him.

"Your head really is full of seaweed."


	40. Forty

She stares into the darkness, the unease washing down her spine. She knows he's out there, but can't fathom why he's doing something so insane.

She realizes she hates fighting monsters with him. That she worries too much. Enough to hurt.

But he's a hell of a partner to have watching her back. There's nobody she trusts more.

When he returns, she runs at him, forcefully pressing her lips to his. Pulling back, she sees crimson dripping down his forehead.

"Shit!" she whisper-screams at him. "I swear to the fucking gods-"

He rolls his eyes. "I'm fine. It's just ketchup."


	41. Forty One

Around him, it's easier to forget what they are. Easier to let her hair down, not to care. About anything.

The wind rakes through her curls, blowing them off her neck. She's infinitely free.

He grins at her, a goofy smile that makes her want to slap him. Or kiss him. She hasn't decided yet.

And all at once, it's as if the sky opens up, and rain begins to pour. He's yelling something, but she can't hear him.

"What?" She shouts at him, her voice cracking as it struggles above the wind.

"You've got makeup running down your face."


	42. Forty Two

The steady pattern of his breathing makes his midnight-black hair fall in his eyes.

She wonders if this is creepy, watching him sleep. Realizes she doesn't care. Which kind of disturbs her. But also thrills her a little bit too. She's a badass ninja.

She slaps him.

"What the hell!"

"You awake?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "What does it look like?"

"You failed your cabin inspection."

"It's not that bad!" he protests.

"Your closet must have thrown up during the night."

"I'm going back to sleep."

"Wake up before noon. You're doing lunch dishes with the harpies."


	43. Forty Three

The door to his cabin slams behind him. He runs his fingers through his hair, feels the dampness of the ocean. Wishes he'd stayed in the water longer.

He's not sure where he's going to go. Where he can go. Cause he's graduating. Soon.

And he knows the world is harder when you face it alone. Knows that from experience.

Not for the first time, he wonders if it's worth it. He knows he has a home here.

But she'd be disappointed. She wouldn't say it outright, but he'd know.

****Knows that harder than everything else, would be losing her.


	44. Forty Four

They take the bus rather than a taxi back into the city.

But she's starting to regret it. The smell is overbearing. Sweaty bodies and cigarette fumes and diesel fuel. She feels slightly nauseous.

He looks over at her, his green eyes an extremely startling complexity of things she can't quite ever figure out.

"Don't ride the bus very often, Wise Girl?"

She purses her lips, refusing to look at him. Shifts her hair so he can't see her face.

"Gonna throw up?"

She whips around. "Of course not!"

He bites his lip, smirking a bit. "I was just checking."


	45. Forty Five

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Making pizza. What does it look like?"

"You're gonna burn down your mom's apartment!"

"Are you sure?" He pauses in front of the fridge.

"Percy. You can't put pizza in the toaster." He's so stupid sometimes. It makes her want to cry. Or maybe just slap him really hard.

"Why not?" Sometimes he's stupid? Make that all the time.

"Toasters don't have the ability to properly heat pizza."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!"

He puts the pizza on a plate. Gives her the puppy dog face.

"You just ruined my entire day."


	46. Forty Six

The snow makes him happy. The big fluffy flakes that are easy to catch on your tongue.

Their boots make little indents on the ground, hers smaller and pointed, his a checkered pattern that completely dwarf hers.

She stops rather suddenly, causing him to turn toward her. She bends down carefully, packing the snow into a tight ball.

"You aren't thinking about throwing that at me, are you?"

Her grin turns devilish, and she backs up a few steps. "You better run now, Seaweed Brain."

"In you dreams, Wise Girl."

"Then this one's a nightmare."

"Sweetheart," he says. "It's on."


	47. Forty Seven

She's beautiful.

It''s not something he'd actually ever say to her. She'd punch him so hard he'd have a nose bleed for a week.

He still doesn't take back what he first thought about her, that she looks like a California girl.

But it's her eyes he loves the most. Even though they scare the fucking shit out of him sometimes. The color is so perfect, so pure.

But it's more than that. It's something he can't even put into words. There's a luminescent quality that makes them shine whenever she laughs.

And he can't imagine extinguishing something that beautiful.


	48. Forty Eight

"I can't believe it. I finally beat you." He looks over at her, grinning devilishly.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't rub it in."

"Are you trying to say you don't brag when you win?"

"Please have just a little bit of compassion for my injured pride."

"This is like the best thing that's ever happened to me!"

"Let's get this straight Kelp Ears. Just because you beat me once at capture the flag doesn't mean that you are in any way superior."

"Wanna bet on that?"

"Yeah, I kinda do!"

"Be prepared to lose."

"Am I ever wrong?"

"We'll see, Wise Girl."


	49. Forty Nine

He's angry. With her. Again.

It's not like he wants this. It's just so damn easy to get caught up in the way she can't agree with anything he says. He hates that he can't be good enough for her.

He knows that's not true. But sometimes, it feels like it might be. And that scares him so much. Turns him into someone he doesn't quite recognise.

But he wants this relationship, and he wants her. And he knew it would be hard from that first kiss.

But Zeus strike him down if he isn't willing to work for it.


	50. Fifty

He runs his thumb over the stone, the tiny grains of sand falling to the ground.

He smiles smugly at her.

"Skip the fucking rock so I can beat you," she snaps impatiently.

He shakes his head, if only to tick her off even more.

"Jackson!"

"Kay. Fine. Whatever." Eight skips. Dominates her measly five.

"I hate you."

"You didn't honestly think you'd beat me, did you?"

She looks off toward the horizon where the sunset shimmers on the water.

"Maybe."

As it disappears, they kiss with their feet in the sand. And all around them, the waves reverberate.

_~Fin~_


End file.
